CHAPTER 9
The noise of the deadbolt turning carries from the front of the house. My chest tightens. My muscles tense. My breathing shallows. The moment I’ve been dreading is here.
I continue to wash the dishes, pretending I’m unaware that I’m no longer alone. I knew I couldn’t put this off indefinitely, but I’m not ready. I need more time.
As an arm slips around my waist, I close my eyes. Lean back, allowing my body to go slack. Savor these last few seconds of “before.”
“Hey.” Jake kisses my cheek, then rests his head against mine. “How was your day?”
“Eh. I’ve had better. How about yours?”
“Same.”
“Why? What happened?” Concern has the water off, my hands empty, and me turned around all before I remember.
Jake’s focus immediately zeros in on my bruised skin. His expression turns pained as he curses.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” His eyes squeeze shut like he can’t even stand to look at me. Pinching his temples, he draws a shaky sigh and says, “I knew it.”
“You knew someone was going to rob the drugstore today? Next time, I wish you’d tell me.”
“Wait.” His hand drops, gaze meeting mine. “What?”
I nod.
“Which drugstore?”
“The one in Gator Glade.”
“And your face just happened to get in the way of a fist?”
“That, or the butt of a gun. I really can’t say for sure.”
Jake curses again as he reaches for me. His thumb brushes lightly across the purple shiner that’s already formed beneath my eye. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got to stop doing this, Cassie.”
A wave of heat ripples under my skin. I take a deep breath, trying to push it down, but I feel it gathering, rising, cresting, ready to unleash with the force of a tsunami. “Doing what?”
“Whatever you did that separated you from the people there who didn’t get hurt.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I say tightly. “Some tweaker was knocking Mr. Johnson around.”
His eyebrows crease together as he asks, “The same Mr. Johnson who was the pharmacist when we were kids?”
“Yes.”
“What is he? Seventy-something? Eighty?”
I nod. “Do you understand now?”
The raised vein throbbing at Jake’s temple slowly sinks back beneath his skin. “Yeah, but I still don’t like it.”
“Well, neither do I.”
We stare at each other for a few moments in silence before he releases a heavy sigh and wraps his arms around me. I burrow against his chest. For the first time since we left the house this morning, the tension that’s kept me in knots eases. Then, I remember what he said when he first saw me.
“What did you mean by ‘you knew it?’”
“What?”
I push back until I can see his eyes. “When you saw my bruise, you said you knew it.”
He releases me and turns away, crossing to the refrigerator. Says, “Just that something bad was going to happen. I’ve had a funny feeling all day.”
I’m not sure it’s the truth. If it is, it’s not the full one. I wish I could see his face, but it’s hidden behind the freezer door as he riffles around inside. “What do you have against frozen peas?”
“Peas are disgusting. They’re an abomination against other vegetables.”
“Agreed. But they’re great for icing a shiner.” Closing the door he gives me a smirk. “You’d think a girl like you would know that by now.”
“Haha. Besides, I’d rather bruise than use ice. I hate the cold.”
“Too bad.” Grabbing a dishtowel from the counter, he wraps a handful of cubes inside it.
“You can keep that,” I tell him.
“Nope. It will make you feel better, I promise. Now come here.”
“Uh-uh.”
I dart around the island to make my escape, but he’s too fast. I laugh as he catches me, half carrying me to the table, where he points for me to take a seat. Grabbing him by the tie, I press my lips to his.
“Can’t we do this instead?”
He gives me a grin, but it’s a weak shadow of the one he usually wears. “Tell you what. Let’s do this, fir—” The smile vanishes, replaced by a frown as he looks around. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
The kit chitters again from the crate in the corner, where it’s woken up from its nap.
“That?”
I stand and point as I nonchalantly say, “You mean my new raccoon?”
Jake gives me a look as he crosses the room. Slowly, he sinks into a squat in front of the crate, where the kit has an arm stretched through the gate grid, reaching toward him.
My heart melts as I watch him offer the raccoon his finger. His thumb tenderly strokes the tiny hand that wraps around it.
“Has Craig been by yet?” he asks, referencing the vet.
“He can’t make it until tomorrow. That’s why I stopped at the drugstore. To get some saline to flush his eyes.”
“He’s not scared of us at all, is he?”
“Doesn’t seem to be. That’s why I have him in here with me. He kept crying when I left him alone.”
“Was he a direct surrender?”
Sometimes, when people discover that they can’t handle the wild animal they’ve tried to adopt, they’ll surrender it to a rescue.
In those cases, the animal has usually become habituated to being fed and will need to remain in captivity.
Though that’s not what happened here, given this guy’s behavior, I predict the outcome will be the same.
“Nope. Had a bait trap stuck on his head.”
Easing the abandoned towel filled with ice off the table, I set it quietly into the sink. Then, I return and take a seat.
“So, what do you think? Can I keep him?” I joke.
Jake smiles at the raccoon still holding his finger. “I think you’re going to have to. Which means he’s going to need a name. Any ideas?”
“I think we should wait until the vet examination for that.”
“You’re worried he might—” He darts a glance between me and the kit, not wanting to say anything negative about survival out loud.
“Oh, no. I think the raccoon will be fine.”
“Then why?”
“Because judging by the way it’s making eyes at you, I’m starting to suspect that he might be a she.”
I try not to feel jealous at the way Jake’s smile grows. At the look he’s giving the animal before him. But mostly, I’m relieved that he’s preoccupied.
Jake hasn’t asked me where I found the raccoon yet. And I really hope the question’s not in our future. I’m not going to lie to him, but I’m also not going to volunteer the information.
Because I saw his expression when he first spotted my bruised face.
There was concern, yes, but beneath that was something else—anger.
And if he was mad about me intervening at the drugstore, he’ll be absolutely enraged if he finds out I spent hours alone in the woods without even telling him where I was.
I might be reckless, but I’m not stupid.
I may act like it sometimes, but I’m not.
I know there’s a giant bullseye on me right now.
I know I need to do something about it before someone hits their mark.
But right now, I don’t have a clue what that something is, which means my only recourse is to be careful.
And so far, I’m doing a horrible job of that.